


we're reliable with the ladies

by mearcats



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cats, F/F, Family, Fluff, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:31:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fluffy femslash one-shots. I'll include the pairing in the title, and ratings may vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. punch-drunk (Red Beauty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt on tumblr: "You just punched me in the face while gesturing wildly to a friend, your friend can’t stop laughing and im too shocked to respond to your apologies"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T, just to be safe.

Belle is not having a good time. For starters, the music in the bar is too loud. She isn’t sure how _Coldplay_ of all things can be so deafening, but it is.

Then there’s the reason she’s here. She didn’t want to be a twenty-six year old divorcee, but here she was. It’s not like Robert had been a good husband and the end of their marriage had been by her choice, but...she’s lonely.

And lonelier still for Regina’s tardiness. Regina’s normally punctual, so Belle feels more than a bit annoyed and hurt that she’d choose today of all days to be late. Honestly, one’s best friend should make a point of being there on the day one’s divorce is finalized.

She’s turning to the barkeep to order her second drink when it hits her. Literally.

The woman beside her is there immediately, apologizing profusely. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I just punched you! Everyone is always telling me I talk with my hands way too much. Are you bleeding?!”

Belle looks up, touching her nose. She’s relieved to see that there’s no blood when she pulls her hand away. Then she meets the eyes of the woman still begging her apologies, and she can’t speak.

(It’s just as well, the woman’s blonde friend is doubled over laughing at her friend’s clumsiness, and Belle can hardly hear a thing over said laughter.)

The woman in front of her, though...she’s tall and slender but with curves that would dazzle the most taciturn of nuns (and Belle is hardly that). But it’s not until she sees those lovely blue eyes and a kind smile framed by cascading dark brown hair that Belle becomes aware that she’s staring at the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

If she were capable of actual words right now, let alone humor, she’d probably say something like, “I came out to have a good time and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now,” but the only thing Belle finds herself saying is... “Uh.”

Damn.

“Can I get you anything? A drink? An ice pack?”

Belle shakes her head, knowing she has to respond at some point. “Um, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure? I’m Ruby, by the way. And the idiot laughing over there is Emma.”

Belle looks over Ruby’s shoulder quickly, “Do you think she’s broken? She’s been laughing like that a long time. Oh, and I’m Belle.”

Ruby’s smile transforms her face, and Belle aches at how she’s even more lovely than before. “Good to meet you, Belle. And Emma’s laughing because usually she’s the one punching people.”

Belle raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“She’s a bail bondsperson, so that means tackling occasionally, I’m afraid,” Ruby clarifies.

“Ah, I see.”

“Please let me get your next drink. I feel really bad about my flailing hitting such a pretty face.”

Belle blushes at the compliment, and so does Ruby, but she agrees, and soon they’re sipping their Moscow Mules. Emma wanders off “to tell everyone she knows what just happened”. They’re chatting happily when Regina (finally!) walks in and informs her that she’s late because she ran into Robert and ended up punching him....well, Belle’s night is made.

It’s close to midnight when she and Ruby exchange phone numbers. It’s around one when Belle is kissing Ruby in the alley, and it’s two when she’s bidding her a reluctant farewell, their respective friends dragging them home.

It’s ten the next morning when Belle opens her phone to see a text from Ruby asking if she can see her soon (lunch, maybe?). She replies in the affirmative, and she can’t help but feel...well, a little punch-drunk.


	2. snow (Swan Queen/Swan-Mills family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Don't you dare throw that snowball!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G.

Regina locked the front door behind her, prepared for their trek to Granny’s. Emma had swung by for them and suggested breakfast, and there was really no way Regina could refuse.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she felt for the other woman – or, indeed, what Emma felt for her. At least not yet. But she had somehow transitioned from “Miss Swan” to “Emma”, and Regina had a sneaking suspicion that the blonde was worming her way into her heart. 

“Hurry up, Mom!” Henry called out to her as he took Emma’s hand. Regina ignored the pang of sadness at how quickly Henry was growing up; soon he wouldn’t want to hold her hand or Emma’s. 

The trio trudged through the snow. Regina ended up so distracted by her conversation with Emma (and not the way Emma’s hair glistened with the snow flakes melting in it, not at all) that she didn’t notice Henry lagging behind. She turned back with a start, giving a sigh of relief when she saw him about ten meters away…until she noticed the mischievous look on his face and the snow he was packing in his hands. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba- goddammit!”

While Regina had been distracted by their son, Emma had taken the opportunity to pelt her with a snowball of her own. The glee in those green eyes gave the older woman momentary pause, and she shook her head happily. 

She loved her family.


	3. i'd like kisses with that latte (Frozen Swan)

Emma huffs in annoyance. Being stood up by the skip she’s chasing means more ramen, it means pulling on another sweater instead of turning up the heat in her Boston apartment.

Damn it.

The barista makes his way over with a latte that Emma definitely didn’t order, but her mouth waters when the scent of cinnamon and chocolate reached her nose. She looks up questioningly at the barista, who grins and cocks his head over at the icy blonde sitting in the corner. “The lass over there sent this on over after asking your order.”

She mutters her thanks to the barista and is about to raise her mug in gratitude when she makes a decision. Instead, she gets up and walks over to the table where the other woman sits. “Hi. Thanks for the coffee?”

The questioning tone gets a smile from the woman. She’s pale, hair lighter than Emma’s own golden tresses, her eyes a beautiful blue as they meet Emma’s. “I’ve seen you in here a couple times, you know. And, um, I saw you arrest someone here last time, so I was hoping today wasn’t a date…” She trails off, looking a little embarrassed by her rambling.

Fortunately for her, Emma finds the blushing adorable. “Oh, yeah, right. It was definitely just a work thing, which sucks. But not an actual date. I’m Emma,” she says, sticking out her hand.

“Elsa,” she replies, shaking Emma’s hand firmly, lingering just a little longer than would be professional.

“So, you’re here a lot?” She tries not to cringe at how cliche she sounds, but Elsa’s laugh is music to her ears.

“Definitely. I kind of have to be, since I’m the owner.”

“Oh! That’s awesome. I love this place,” Emma says enthusiastically.

Elsa smiles back. “I’m glad. This place is kind of my baby. So are you a cop or…?”

“Nope, I’m a bailbondswoman.”

“That is so…attractive, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Emma didn’t mind in the least and tells her so.

“Then, if that’s the case, maybe you also wouldn’t mind me asking you to dinner?”

It’s Emma’s turn to smile, and she agrees happily.

—

When she finally tracks down her skip a couple nights later, she turns up at the coffee shop and is ecstatic to see Elsa there working behind the counter. She’s even more thrilled when Elsa leans over it to kiss her.


	4. weird little cat family (Dragon Queen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina's cat gets Mal's pregnant...and they decide to make a go of it with their odd little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a tumblr prompt.

Regina’s jaw clenches in frustration, heels clacking on the marble floor as she makes her way down the hall to her neighbor’s apartment.

When Henry convinced her to get a cat, she had anticipated it would be something more regal, more elegant. Not…not this monster.

Instead, they had ended up with the most disreputable ball of fluff she’s ever laid eyes on. Long, tan hair, round yellow eyes, a flattened nose and these wheezing snores that should never be found in nature.

Henry calls her Princess. Or at least he did until a couple weeks ago, when it became evident that _Princess_ was actually a tom cat–and an unneutered one at that–who was enthusiastically going at it with their neighbor’s purebred Russian Blue cat on said neighbor’s balcony. Since then, Regina’s mostly called him Asshole (outside of Henry’s hearing, of course).

Their neighbor–tall, regal, imposing–sent them a note last night, saying that Katarina the cat is pregnant as a result of her liaison with Princess Asshole. The tone of the note hadn’t seemed too dismayed, though Mal (Regina thinks her last name might be Dracos, and it’s fitting, really) does want to discuss arrangements going forward. And she’s some kind of high-powered attorney, so Regina is really not looking forward to this…negotiation.

With a sigh, Regina presses the doorbell. It’s only a moment before Mal answers the door, smiling softly and welcoming her in.

“First, I am so sorry about that beast. I’m sure that’s not what you wanted for your cat’s offspring, but I’m happy to pay whatever you think is fair.”

Mal’s face is speculative, her smile turning a bit more predatory. It’s easy to see how she’d destroy in a courtroom, but honestly? Regina’s a little turned on.

“Admittedly, it’s not what I would have chosen. But I’m sure we can work something out. I’d be happy to discuss it over dinner, if you’re…free?”

Regina smirks at the subtle question. “I am, but not tonight. I have to help my son, Henry, with a project for school.”

The seductive edge fades away from her face. “He seems like a sweet boy. I take it the cat was his idea?”

“He is. But yes, unfortunately. And we were led to believe that the cat was female.”

“And he’s so fluffy you couldn’t tell.”

“Exactly.”

Mal laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. “Well, I’ll live. Does tomorrow work for dinner? Henry can come along too.”

Excitement and hope flutter in Regina’s stomach. “We’ll be there.”

&&&

Dinner the next night goes off without a hitch–Mal and Henry get along fabulously. Only a cursory mention is made of the cats, and Regina finds herself suggesting another dinner.

Mal agrees, and then she keeps agreeing to dinners. Sometimes it’s just the two of them, and sometimes Henry is there too. These days, Regina often wakes to Mal’s arm around her waist, and she makes coffee for two and breakfast for three.

Then it finally happens–Katarina gives birth to the kittens. There are three of them, small and squirmy and healthy. Two of them look nearly as disreputable as their father, but the third is a carbon copy of her mother, and Regina can only shake her head at the motley assortment of cats.

Mal sees her and laughs. “Quite a little family we have.”

Regina whips her head around at that, but Mal meets her eyes steadily. “If you want to be a family, that is.”

“You, me, Henry, and five cats? I couldn’t imagine anything better,” she says with a laugh.

Mal kisses her then, and they look out over what promises to be a lovely start to their family.


	5. you win (Frozen Swan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: We are both teachers and at the end of the year we compare how many gifts we’ve received from student and you’ve won for the past three years

Emma looks at the pile of assorted gifts and gift cards on Elsa’s desk and sighs.

Elsa just grins. “Do I win again?”

“You do,” she says, resigned. “It’s not fair. I’m a math teacher–I’m never going to be as popular as everyone’s favorite English and music teacher.”

“Oh, come now. All the kids in woodshop love you. You get loads of-”

“Bird feeders and picture frames? Yeah. But I’m not out there living that Starbuck’s life.”

Elsa’s laugh is musical, and Emma does everything she can to fight off a grin.

“So where are you keeping yours?”

“Oh, next to the saw blades in the woodshop. No one will lay a hand on them when they have to reach around a band saw for it.”

“Right, and you _aren’t_ prickly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a delight.”

“While that’s definitely true, it doesn’t mean you aren’t a little thorny.”

“Hmmph,” she said, ruining the effect by smirking at her.

&&&

This isn’t their first rodeo competing to see who gets the bigger pile of gifts from their students. They’ve been doing this since Elsa joined the teaching staff at Storybrooke High four years ago, and truthfully, Emma can’t quite remember how it got started. (It clearly had nothing to do with her being competitive and also wanting to tease Elsa about her immediate popularity as an instructor. Of course not.)

Each year it’s gotten progressively more intense. At this point, Emma knows at least two of the other teachers have a pool going. (She’s pretty sure the history teacher, Killian, bets on her, while Robin, the science teacher, bets on Elsa.) Their principal tolerates the competition but is secretly amused, if the good-natured eye rolling is any indication.

She was sure this was her year. For whatever reason, more of her students seemed to like her than she remembers ever happening before. They’re a decent crew this year, only a handful of demon children that make her want to pull her hair out.

But here she is at home, with her three new birdfeeders, five jewelry boxes, two plaques (complete with…creative…grammar; thank god Elsa’s the English teacher and not her), eight candles, four lotion sets, and twelve gift cards.

She sighs, looking over at Elsa’s pile. Elsa sees her and grins.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re married, so by law they’re half yours anyway.”

She takes her hand and brushes a kiss across the knuckles. “You’re still treating me to Granny’s.”

“Deal.”


	6. catnip (Frozen Swan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My cat keeps breaking into your apartment and it ate all your plants… dinner to make up for it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a million years since I've written anything that wasn't for the challenge I was doing! So I hope you enjoy this return to little ficlets.

Elsa cringed when she heard Olaf meow–loudly.

No, him meowing wasn’t the problem. It was that he was obviously doing so from their neighbor’s balcony. 

She sighed from her own balcony. “Olaf! Come back over here right now.”

He just blinked over at her languidly and proceeded to take a massive bite of the basil plant. He had clearly already gotten into the mint and dill.

“What the hell?! Oh god, you again, cat?” echoed a dismayed and exasperated voice.

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat as her neighbor stepped out onto the balcony. It wasn’t just a problem that Olaf was breaking into their neighbor’s space and eating her plants–though it definitely wasn’t great–but it was also a problem because Elsa had developed the world’s biggest crush on her. 

She had learned that Attractive Neighbor’s name was Emma, thanks to a loud friend who had been over drinking a couple months ago. She was nice when they passed in the halls, if not exactly outgoing. She seemed to have a variable schedule, but didn’t seem up to anything…sketchy. Elsa didn’t get drug dealer vibes from her (and nor did her brother-in-law, Kristoff, and he had a better sense for things like that). 

And now she was here, yelling at Olaf. 

“Sorry,” Elsa squeaked, her palms sweaty and her heart pounding in her throat.

Emma jumped. “Shit! I didn’t realize anyone was out here. Well, except for Casper here.”

“Casper?”

“That’s what I call him whenever he comes to visit and eat my plants. I used to have pansies, but I read they’re toxic to cats, so I moved them,” she said.

Elsa was in a daze. Shaking her head to break out of it, she said, “His name is actually Olaf. And I’m sorry he eats your plants. I don’t even know how he gets over there.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I like him,” Emma replied, smiling over at her. “Oh. I’m Emma.”

“I’m Elsa, and my cat is an asshole.”

Emma laughed, and Elsa was sure she’d never heard anything more beautiful. “Seriously, he’s fine. He’s sweet.”

Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat. “Nonetheless, I’m sorry. Perhaps I could take you to dinner to make up for it?”

Emma’s eyes widened, but she broke into a grin. “I was hoping you’d ask me out. Yes.”


End file.
